by John Sneeden
“Copy that. Do you have a description?” asked Zane.
“Not much of one. Shorter than average, but I wasn’t able to see their face.”
“Call me back if you haven’t heard from me in ten minutes.”
“Copy that. Over.”
“Oh… Carmen?”
“Yes.”
“Make sure nobody else came with them. If this is Renaissance, there's zero chance we’re only dealing with one person.” Zane ended the call and turned off the bedroom light. He didn’t have long, perhaps a minute or two at most, to prepare for whoever was coming his way. He thought it odd that someone had shown up at the precise time they did, although he was also fairly certain they hadn’t been followed.
After leaving the bedroom, Zane walked back down to the living room and looked around for a place to hide. As his mind ran over several options, he heard the distinctive ding of an elevator bell in the hallway outside the apartment. Whoever had entered the building was about to step out onto the third floor.
With the intruder only seconds away from entry, Zane saw something out of the corner of his eye and realized it was his only option. Turning off the lights, he backed into the coat closet next to the front door. He didn’t close the door completely, as he still wanted to have a view of the room. He also knew a cracked door would allow him to hear sounds coming from the main room.
After settling in, he pulled out the Beretta and disengaged the safety. He then pushed as far back into the closet as he could. If the person decided to open the closet door and look inside, that extra bit of concealment might be the difference between life and death. Zane heard the sound of jingling keys outside the apartment door. Soon thereafter, he heard the lock being turned and the door creaking open. The way in which the person was entering cemented the fact that it was an intruder. A cleaner or someone with the management company would have barged right in.
Once the door was pushed open, Zane could hear the soft pad of shoes as the person stepped inside. The intruder didn’t turn on the light but stepped carefully forward. Soon, the crack in the door darkened as the person paused just inches away from where Zane was hidden.
The operative quickly ran through his options. He thought of simply remaining in the closet to see if he could figure out what the person was doing there but quickly ruled that out. If someone was there to search the place, he or she would eventually make it to the closet, and Zane would have lost some of his advantage. He also thought of slipping out of the apartment once the person went into the bedroom and then joining Carmen to monitor things from the outside but ruled that out as well. He doubted he could open both the closet and then the outside door quietly enough to slip out unnoticed, which would again put him at a disadvantage.
As his mind began to coalesce around another idea, his decision was made for him. The closet door began to move. He wasn’t sure if the person was opening the door or fumbling for the lights, but he couldn’t take any chances.
Gauging approximately where the person must be standing, Zane exploded out of the closet. His body hit the intruder head-on, and they both launched across the room and into the table. Zane heard a loud grunt. There was something strange about the sound, but he didn’t stop to think about it as they spun around and fell back upon the floor.
In seconds, Zane had pinned his opponent to the floor. Realizing he had an advantage, he lifted his gun to make a blow across the head. His goal was not to kill but to render unconscious. Just as he lifted his arm, the intruder screamed, “No, please don’t hit me! Please don’t hit me!”
The operative froze. He hadn’t expected that voice.
Using caution, Zane grabbed both wrists with his left hand. He then set his gun down and pulled the flashlight out of his pocket. After turning it on, he frowned and pulled back, stunned at what he saw.
Staring up at him was Amanda Higgs.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“SEE, I TOLD you I could survive out here with you guys,” Amanda said.
“You were a second or two away from serious injury,” Zane replied.
Amanda was seated in the kitchen. Carmen had pulled a chair up behind her, and was holding a large ice pack to the back of her head. Amanda’s fall had created a monstrous bump that was not coming down very quickly.
“He’s right, sweetie. You could have been killed,” added Carmen.
Zane leaned back against the kitchen island. “Exactly why did you come here? Carmen is right—you put yourself at serious risk.”
Amanda looked back at him without blinking. “I came because I made a promise to myself, and I always keep my promises. It may seem silly to you, but promises and commitments are very important to me.”
“And what was the promise?” asked Zane. “To find your father’s killer?”
“Yes, that’s exactly what it was. You don’t understand… For the first time in my life, my father and I were starting to get close. Our relationship was beginning to feel like that of a father and daughter.” Zane could see her eyes glistening with moisture. “Which means whoever killed my father took that away from us. They short-circuited the beautiful thing that God was doing. It’s something I had prayed about for a long time.”
“Look, if you truly want the mystery of your father’s death solved, and if you truly want his killer brought to justice, then you need to let us do what we do.” Carmen said. “Trust me, we will get this thing solved.”
“I’m sure you will. But I can help you. I know my father better than you do, and you’re going to see that I can hold my own out here.”
Zane rubbed his chin. “Let me ask you something. How were you going to deal with the men that were following you in London?”
Amanda had been staring at the floor but looked up at him after hearing the question. “What in the world are you talking about? What men following me in London?”
Amanda’s eyes widened as Zane recounted how the two men had followed him into the Tube after the meeting at Founders Arms. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have been killed or something!”
“Fortunately, your life wasn’t in danger that night. Their agenda didn’t involve harming you, at least not at that point. Amanda… I’m going to tell you something. I probably shouldn’t, but I’m going to anyway, and I’m asking you to keep this to yourself.”
“Of course.”
“I believe your father was killed by someone at Renaissance, or people connected to the organization. For what purpose, I have no idea.”
Amanda nodded slowly. “I’ve always thought they were the ones who were responsible for his death. But what does that have to do with me being safe that night?”
“Well, I wouldn’t necessarily use the word ‘safe.’ What I said was that you weren’t in danger of being killed by those men that were following you.”
“Why not?”
“First of all, they could have killed you from the moment you stepped off the plane, and they didn’t. But there is a bigger issue here, so let’s back up a bit. Renaissance is a multi-layered, multi-national conglomerate. They also apparently have a lot to lose; otherwise, they wouldn’t have dispatched some thug to murder your father on the streets of London.
“So, we’re talking about sophisticated people who killed your father for a very specific reason. I’ve dealt with these kinds of killers before. And Carmen has, too.”
“Many times.” Carmen nodded and gently squeezed Amanda’s shoulder for emphasis.
“And if there is one thing Carmen and I know about sophisticated killers, it’s this: they don’t like a mess. Common criminals—drug dealers, muggers, jilted lovers—don’t really care if there is a mess. They’re sloppy, and they usually get caught. Sophisticated killers are a different animal altogether. They kill only when they absolutely have to, and after it’s over, they do everything they can to go back to business as usual. A mess draws more attention and makes it more likely they’ll get caught. Killing you would create a mess.”
“So I’m safe.�
�
“Not so fast,” Zane replied. “You were safe in London, but that may not be the case now. I’m sure they’ve had time to digest all that happened that night, and something tells me they’ve probably figured out that it wasn’t two old friends getting together for a drink.”
“It could have been,” Amanda said with a grin, as if she liked the thought of that.
“They know better. These two men may have been thugs, but they were professional thugs. And me losing them in the Underground gave them all the information they needed to understand that something, information or otherwise, was passed along to me.”
Amanda’s brow furrowed. “So, I could have been killed the next day, on the way to the airport?”
“No, you were fine. First of all, I’m reasonably certain their focus has turned to yours truly now. If you passed information along to me, it’s obvious I’m the one who can hurt them with that information. Killing you would create mess and would do nothing to stop me. Besides, we had people at your hotel later that night. They followed you all the way to the airport the next day. Better safe than sorry.”
Amanda seemed reassured. “But that brings me back to what I said before—that I’m safe now. And that means I’m free to give you guys a hand.”
“Except that I hadn’t finished yet. I said you were safe in London. And indeed, you may be safe now. But that’s only if you haven’t been followed over here. If they see that we’re working together—”
“How would they know I’m here?”
Carmen scooted her chair around a bit so that she could respond. “Someone obviously knew you were flying to London, which is why they had two people waiting there to follow you. Our best guess is that they have someone working for one of the airlines or working in airline security. That or they have some way of monitoring your credit cards or your phone calls. And while I doubt they followed you back to the States, my guess is that they have continued to monitor you.”
“So you think they followed me here to Vienna?”
“We have no way of knowing,” Zane said. “The safest thing to assume is that they’re here now. Speaking of which, did you notice anything suspicious today?”
“No not at all,” Amanda replied. She seemed confident in her answer but then paused as if going over the day’s events. “I say that, but then again, I have to admit I wasn’t really paying close attention.”
“Well…” Carmen started.
Zane turned around quickly. “What?”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. I thought I heard something when Amanda was at the rear entrance.”
“What did you hear?”
“When she was at the door looking around, I thought I heard a snap in the grove of trees on the other side of the path. Almost like someone was walking and stepped on a stick.”
“Did you hear anything else?”
“No, and that’s why I didn’t mention it. When you came down to let me in, I looked over there with my light but didn’t see anything.”
Zane frowned. “Well, there's nothing we can do about it now. The safest thing to assume is that Amanda was followed. That’s all the more reason to get started up here. We need to find what we’re looking for and then get out of here as soon as possible.”
“And I’m here now, so I’m going to help. You at least owe me that.”
Zane figured he couldn’t argue with that, so he organized the search. He would take the bedroom and associated closet, which he had already started. Carmen and Amanda would work on the living room and kitchen.
*
Carmen began her search of the living room at the writing desk. Per Zane’s suggestion, she looked inside the frames of the photos. Finding nothing, she pulled open the drawers and saw that all were filled with papers and folders. Her excitement was short-lived, however, as most of the papers seemed to belong to whoever had lived there before Higgs. There were utility bills, insurance policies, and grocery lists, but nothing of any interest. She clenched her jaw in frustration but went through each sheet carefully one by one, as it would’ve been easy for Higgs to slide something in between the papers.
After fifteen minutes of examining each sheet, Carmen finally shut the last drawer and sat back in the seat. Before moving on, she looked at the other items on top of the desk—a lamp, a few decorative items, and some collectibles—nothing that screamed, "hidden instructions."
Carmen picked up the picture of Amanda’s mother again. She was like an older version of her daughter, with the same blond hair and big blue eyes. She had a pleasant smile, and Carmen thought she had the look of a kind and sensitive woman. “Nothing here,” said the Italian while continuing to stare at the picture.
“What’s that?” Amanda popped her head up from behind the kitchen island. She had been going through the cabinets on the off chance her father had hidden something amongst all the pots and pans.
“I said there is nothing over here. It looks like most of the papers were left by whoever leased the place before your father.”
Amanda stood up and walked over to Carmen’s side. She smiled when she saw the picture Carmen was holding and took it from her.
“I miss her so much.”
Carmen reached out and grabbed Amanda’s wrist. “I’m sorry.”
Amanda wiped her eyes with a sleeve and set the picture back on the desk, obviously concerned that she might get even more emotional. Her expression then changed to one of confusion, and she reached out for another item sitting on the desk. “Hey, I didn’t know Dad had these with him.”
Carmen watched as Amanda scrutinized one of the collectibles. It looked like a miniature version of an artifact. “Let me see it,” Carmen said, taking the object from Amanda. “That’s the Rosetta Stone, right?”
“Yes. Mom bought that miniature for me at the British Museum in London when I was a kid. We were there on family vacation. Dad wanted to show Mom and me his old stomping grounds. Anyway, the museum and that little gift were what first got me interested in archaeology.”
“Nice.”
“Oh wow,” Amanda said, reaching for another item on the table. It was a small model of the Parthenon. “I can’t believe he had this too. Dad bought this for me when he was over in Athens, years ago. It was right after I started taking an interest in history and archaeology. I had become obsessed with Ancient Greece.” She laughed. “Dad used to joke that I was the only girl on Planet Earth who went to sleep with a model of the Parthenon.”
Carmen smiled. “He really loved you.”
Amanda smiled back at her but said nothing. Carmen was about to change the subject to take Amanda’s mind off of her father when they heard Zane’s voice from down the hall. “Hey, Carmen. Come help me with this. I think I may have found something.”
Not seeing him in the bathroom, Carmen and Amanda went to the bedroom. When they walked in, he was still nowhere to be seen.
“In here,” said a voice from the walk-in closet to the left.
Upon entering, they found Zane down on one knee with a sheet of paper in his hand. There were several other sheets scattered on the floor around him. At the back of the closet was a small door that was open.
Zane stared at the page for a moment before finally handing it to Carmen. “I found these in the storage space at the back of the closet. The space looked empty at first, until I pulled out my flashlight and saw these placed up against the wall. Whoever put them there didn’t want them to be found. I think it just might be what we’re looking for. The only problem is, I can’t read it. It’s in German.”
Carmen took the sheet from him and began to read. The paper appeared to be very old and was filled was filled with faded script. Her German wasn’t great and the handwriting was sloppy, but Carmen was able to get the gist of what she was reading. After a couple of minutes she broke into a big smile, held the sheet up in the air, and then released it to fall to the carpet.
“What?” Zane asked.
“I don’t think that’s what we’re looking for
.”
“What is it?”
“Well, let’s just say it was hidden for a good reason,” said Carmen.
“And what makes you think it’s not important? What’s in there?”
“They’re love letters, Zane. And from the look of the paper, they’re really old love letters. Whoever put them back there was simply hiding it from their spouse.”
Zane stood up and placed his hands on his hips, obviously frustrated that the search had come to a dead end.
“What now?” Amanda asked.
“Let’s talk this through,” Zane said, exiting the closet and moving out toward the hallway.
*
The three walked back down to the kitchen and took seats around the table. Zane was the first to speak. “I’m sure you did a great job of going through everything, but tell me where you looked. Carmen, you first.”
“I went through every drawer in the writing desk. There was nothing, not a thing. In fact, I couldn’t find anything from Ian Higgs in there.”
Zane turned to Amanda. “Anything in the kitchen?”
“Nothing. I even looked in the freezer. I watched a spy movie one time, and the guy always kept every important thing in the freezer because he said nobody would ever look there.”
Zane leaned back and looked at the ceiling as though it might jar loose some piece of information in his mind.
“Any ideas?” Carmen asked.
“I’m just trying to go back through the letter in my mind. I feel like I know it well, but I wish I had brought a copy with me. I suppose I could log into the Delphi server and—”
“I have a copy,” Amanda said.
Zane leaned up in his chair. “You have it with you?”
“Yep, I keep it with me everywhere I go now.”
She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Zane. The operative stared at it for about five minutes and then folded it back up. “I’ve been through it a hundred times in my mind. There just isn’t anything there.”
“Mind if I take a look?” Carmen asked.
